शुकदौत्यम्

Then a mighty rākṣasa named Śārdūla, a spy of the evil-hearted Rāvaṇa, came up and saw the monkey army encamped on the sea-shore under Sugrīva's protection. Seeing that host calm and in good order on every side, he hurried back to Laṅkā and told the king: "A flood of monkeys and bears is advancing on Laṅkā, unfathomable and immeasurable, like a second ocean. Those two brothers, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, the sons of Daśaratha, excellent and handsome, have come on Sītā's track; they have reached the ocean and encamped on its shore. Their army covers the sky for ten yojanas on every side. Great king, you should learn the truth of it quickly; your envoys can find it all out soon. Then gifts, conciliation or sowing division can be used as fits." Śārdūla names only three of the four means of statecraft, gifts, conciliation and division, and not force, for he has seen the enemy's strength. The word "calm" shows the monkey army's discipline: not a noisy rabble but steady. The "second ocean" conveys both its extent and its depth. Fear lies hidden in the spy's words. He reports not only numbers but the nature of the enemy, calling Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa excellent and handsome, and so granting them respect. "Come on Sītā's track" reminds Rāvaṇa of his own crime: they have come because of Sītā and for nothing else. The army filling the sky for ten yojanas is an exaggeration that still shows its greatness. A spy's duty is to report what he has seen, and Śārdūla does so, leaving the decision in the king's hands.

At Śārdūla's words Rāvaṇa, lord of the rākṣasas, was suddenly alarmed. Having settled what he himself should do, he said to a rākṣasa named Śuka, the best of those who understand affairs: "Go quickly and speak to King Sugrīva in my name, exactly as I tell you, boldly and in gentle, excellent words: 'You were born in a line of great kings; you are mighty, the son of Ṛkṣarajas. You have nothing to gain or lose here, and yet, lord of the monkeys, you are like a brother to me. If I carried off the wife of that wise prince, what is that to you, Sugrīva? Go back to Kiṣkindhā. The monkeys can never reach Laṅkā; not even the gods with the gandharvas could, let alone men and monkeys.'" Here Rāvaṇa tries to divide his enemies, to separate Sugrīva from Rāma. He praises Sugrīva's lineage and strength, professes brotherhood, and argues that Rāma's business is none of Sugrīva's. At the end, by speaking of how impregnable Laṅkā is, he adds a veiled threat, so that conciliation, division and intimidation are all mixed in one message. Rāvaṇa knows well that Rāma helped Sugrīva by killing Vālin, yet in saying "you have nothing to gain or lose here" he tries to make him forget that kindness. By ordering Śuka to speak "boldly", he sets the envoy's tone too: no weakness must show. Śuka is called the best of those who understand affairs, which speaks of his skill with words.

So instructed by the lord of the rākṣasas, the night-rover Śuka took the form of a bird and swiftly flew up into the sky. He travelled far over the ocean and, poised in the air, delivered to Sugrīva the whole message just as the evil-hearted Rāvaṇa had commanded. As he was speaking, the monkeys sprang up at once and reached him quickly, meaning to tear off his wings and beat him to death with their fists. All the monkeys seized him by force, and the night-rover was swiftly dragged down from the sky to the ground. As the monkeys tormented him, Śuka cried out: "Kākutstha, kings do not kill envoys. Hold the monkeys back properly. It is the envoy who sets aside his master's view and puts forward his own, saying what he was not told to say, who deserves death." Hearing Śuka's plea and lament, Rāma said to the monkey chiefs who were beating him, "Do not kill him." Lightened by the loss of the feathers the monkeys had plucked, and granted safety, Śuka rose again into the air and said: "Sugrīva, you who are full of courage, strength and valour, what am I to say to Rāvaṇa, who makes the worlds cry out?" The duty toward envoys is plain here: a messenger is not to be punished, and Rāma protects even the enemy's envoy, his righteousness unshaken in wartime. Śuka's taking a bird's form shows his power of illusion; speaking from the sky, he thinks himself safe, but the monkeys leap even higher. First they want to pluck his wings, then to kill him, showing how their anger mounts. Śuka appeals to Rāma as Kākutstha, not to Sugrīva, for he knows that judgement on dharma lies in Rāma's hands. Reminding them of the rules for envoys, he presents himself as a mere messenger; only one who says what he was not told deserves punishment. Rāma's single command, "do not kill him", holds back all the monkeys, showing the power of his word. Once safe, Śuka goes back into the sky and asks for Sugrīva's reply, a sign of his devotion to his task, though his lightness from losing his feathers shows the sorry state he is in.

So addressed, Sugrīva, lord of the monkeys, mighty and undaunted, gave the rākṣasa's spy Śuka a plain, clear answer. "Rāvaṇa, you are not my friend, nor one I pity, nor my benefactor, nor dear to me. You are Rāma's enemy, with all your kin; so, deserving death as you do, you must be killed like Vālin. I will kill you, lord of the night-rovers, with your sons, your kinsmen and all your clan, and coming with a great army I will burn all Laṅkā to ashes. Fool, even if the gods and Indra guard you, you will not escape Rāghava. Though you vanish, though you go to the path of the sun or enter the underworld, though you cling to the lotus feet of the Lord of the Mountain, you and your brothers are as good as dead at Rāma's hands. In the three worlds I see no one to protect you, no piśāca, rākṣasa, gandharva or asura. You killed Jaṭāyus, the aged king of the vultures. Why did you not carry off Sītā while Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were there? You have taken her, and you do not see the ruin it means for you. You do not know the best of the Raghus, mighty, great-souled, unassailable even by the gods, who will take your life." Rāvaṇa's attempt to divide them fails completely: Sugrīva rejects the flattery of being "like a brother", and by recalling Vālin's death he hints that the same end awaits Rāvaṇa. The speech, set in longer metres, matches his anger and his fire. His four denials, not a friend, not one to pity, not a benefactor, not dear, answer Rāvaṇa's "you are like a brother to me". He cites the killing of Jaṭāyus and the abduction of Sītā as proof of Rāvaṇa's wickedness, and carrying her off while Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were away shows his cowardice.

Then Aṅgada, Vālin's son and best of monkeys, said: "Great king, this is no envoy; he looks to me like a spy. Standing here, he has taken the measure of your whole army. Let him be seized so that he does not go back to Laṅkā; that is what I think best." At King Sugrīva's command the monkeys sprang up, seized Śuka and bound him as he wailed like one with no protector. Tormented by those fierce monkeys, Śuka cried out to the great-souled Rāma, son of Daśaratha: "They are tearing off my wings by force and putting out my eyes. If I lose my life, then all the evil I have done from the night I was born to the night I die will fall on you." Hearing that lament, Rāma did not let him be killed. "Let him go," he told the monkeys; "he came as an envoy." Aṅgada's suspicion is reasonable: an envoy delivers his message and goes back, but a spy counts the army. As crown prince he knows statecraft: if an enemy spy returns having seen their strength, it harms the army. Sugrīva accepts his advice, but the final decision is Rāma's. Śuka's torment, his wings torn and his eyes put out, is described with pity, and his last words are like the curse of a refugee, for it was believed that one who kills a helpless man takes on his sins. Rāma releases him out of compassion, not fear; he does not kill even an enemy who begs for mercy, and compassion is part of his dharma. Later it is Śuka himself who will report Rāma's strength to Rāvaṇa, so that even Rāma's mercy becomes, indirectly, a means of war.